


Sky

by knight_of_thyme (ravenic)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Multi, Politics, Violence, Wingfic, how did this happen, kind of, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenic/pseuds/knight_of_thyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nations of Prospit and Derse have been at war since time before memory.  An attempt at peace negotiations has finally been arranged, with two young leaders from both sides in attendance.  John Egbert and Jade Harley from Prospit, Rose Lalonde and Dave Strider from Derse.<br/>The talks seem to go well for a time, and then everything goes horribly wrong.  If there is to be any chance of peace ever again, if they are to survive at all, the four children from two opposing sides will have to work together, rely on each other, and trust one another with their lives.<br/>They have no other choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Solitarysynonym](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solitarysynonym/gifts).



> im so sorry  
> all you wanted was a beta kids wingfic  
> and i made it into this crazy nightmare of politics and assassins and madness  
> imsry  
> i hope you like it anyway  
> happy betapalooza

John had never seen an actual Dersite. Of course, he knew what they looked like, at least generally, but he had only ever read about them or seen pictures or video recordings. Soldiers, mostly, big scary men and women wearing body armor, wings laced in protective chainmail, symbol that sickeningly purple moon, like a dark shadow of Prospit’s pure yellow-gold glow, plastered on everything. Their eyes were always dark and hollow, empty of light and emotion. Monsters.

This image was somewhat hard to reconcile with the two people standing before him. They had to be John’s age, a boy and a girl. Both had the white-blond hair common in Dersites, perhaps the only light in them at all.

The girl’s wings were the color of old ashes, as if someone had burned a library and painted the end result across her feathers. Some of them glimmered almost-lavender, and a handful of primaries were a shade of violet seen only in the feathers of old ravens. The boy’s wings were crow-black, almost light-absorbing, except for where red was splattered across them like blood.

The girl’s eyes were the same shade of violet as the moon emblazoned across the front of her gown, and unsettlingly sharp. John couldn’t see the boy’s eyes at all, hidden behind dark glasses, and he couldn’t pick anything up from his face or body language. The boy stood like a soldier.

He probably was. All Dersites were.

 _No,_ said part of John’s mind. _You’re wrong. You have to be. You’re here for peace talks, to try to reconcile hundreds of years of war. They have to know that. They have to want an end to this too._  
_I hope._  
John was supposed to forget ingrained prejudices, ignore centuries of bloodshed and pain and strife, ignore the fact that his mother and Jade’s parents were dead from Dersite assassinations, pay no attention to all the monstrous things Derse had done to his clan, and negotiate for peace for the first time in decades.

Well. When he put it that way, it sounded pretty hard. He wanted peace, he really did, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to make that happen when he was really just a kid, Jade too, and both of the Derse ambassadors as well. Yeah, John’s dad and Jade’s grandfather were Prospit leaders, and if what he guessed of the Dersites was right, they were on the Derse council (or whatever passed for such there) as well. The four of them weren’t just kids. But also, they kind of were. Other officials had come with John and Jade, and probably other Derse people with the other two, but they were the main four, and the majority of the responsibility was on them. It was kind of a lot.

_I just hope they want peace as much as we do._

.

Rose let nothing show on her face as she examined the Prospitian ambassadors standing before her. Like all Prospitians, their hair was dark and their wings light. Mirroring her and Dave, there was one boy and one girl, along with the other diplomats – she and Dave hadn’t come alone either.

The mirroring went only as far as the numbers and genders – from there, the four of them were as different as night and day. Rose and Dave were warriors. Rose’s battle tactics and strategy were known throughout Derse, and Dave himself was a captain of their armies, and had led the Dersites into battle time and again. The two Prospitians were children. With one look, Rose knew that neither of them had ever seen true battle. It was blaringly obvious, in their stance, in their eyes, in the way they held their hands and the lack of that special awareness that only came after fighting for your life.  


The boy was taller than Rose, but shorter than Dave. Prospitians tended to be strong and stockily built where Dersites grew long and lean. His wings were the color of ivory, and if Rose looked closely, she could see a few feathers just barely tinted blue scattered throughout. His eyes looked like the sky itself was trapped inside them.  


The girl beside him had masses of thick black hair, spilling over the bases of her wings. Hers were a faded white, like old paper, and the outer primaries were the strangest shade of pale lime green, matching the more intense shade of her eyes. Where the boy felt nervous and hopeful, Rose could read determination in the girl’s stance, in her eyes. Her first thought was, _this girl may very well drag us to peace whether we like it or not. She doesn’t look to be one to take no for an answer._  


In truth, Rose didn’t want to take no for an answer either. She had grown up fighting – everyone had – and there were things the Prospitians had done that could perhaps never be forgiven, but if she was being truthful so had the Dersites. Hatred had been born and bred into her, but she knew that the war had to end. The two clans would tear each other apart someday, and in the process, destroy themselves. If she and Dave and these two Prospitians had to make a peace between them to end the fighting, then so be it.  


She just hoped they would be able make it happen.

* * *

The negotiations had been going on for three days, and John was _tired_. He knew peace wasn’t just going to happen all on its own, not after so long, but he hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was going to be meeting almost constantly with the Dersites. He had seen the two lead Dersites a few times – Dave and Rose, their names were Dave and Rose – but most of the times they had been in the same room as him and Jade, there had been lots of other diplomats too, and he hadn’t really talked to either of them specifically.  


Speaking of the Dersites, John had just gotten out of a meeting with Dave, Rose, Jade and a few other Dersite and Prospitian diplomats. Rose and Jade were walking one way, trailed by a few followers, while John and Dave went the other, a Prospitian man John didn’t know well following behind. That was to be expected – John wasn’t very familiar with most of the other ambassadors that made up the (large) entourage that had accompanied John and Jade to the peace talks with Derse.  


He and Dave didn’t speak. He actually hadn’t exchanged words with either Dersite leader other than in formal meeting settings since the talks had begun. They were all probably about the same age, and John wondered if they would have had any shared interests or experiences. But he was from Prospit and Dave was from Derse, and even if they were there to try to establish peace, there was too much difference and separation for either one to try and start a conversation.  


The quiet, marked only by the sound of the trio’s footsteps, was suddenly, explosively broken by – was it an explosion? _Something_ shook the building, pieces of plaster raining down from the ceiling to dust John’s hair white. John staggered, and from the corner of his eye saw Dave fall to one knee, the Prospitian diplomat stumbling against the wall. The sound was like thunder after lightning struck a little too close, and John shook his head to clear it of the ringing.  


“What the hell was that?” John said. Or maybe shouted. His ears were still ringing a little. Fireworks? But why would anyone be setting off fireworks? Anyway, fireworks didn’t sound like that. That sounded like –  


That sounded like a bomb. A bomb that was very close.  


Dave was muttering something, pulling himself back onto his feet, but another blast, this one even bigger, sent him back down again, falling hard onto his hands and knees.  


John was about to turn to him, instinctively reaching out to help him back up despite the fact that he was a Dersite _(that wasn’t supposed to matter anymore, dammit)_ , when his finally-cleared ears caught another voice.  


“It is time.” Mid-reach, John stopped and turned back to the Prospitian ambassador (he didn’t even know his name. So much for being a good leader…). “Time? Time for what? What were those –”  


Without warning, the Prospitian drew a dagger and slashed at John. As he flung himself clumsily backwards, shocked, his brain tried to recalibrate itself.  


_A knife? But we’re at the peace talks. There aren’t supposed to be any weapons._  


_Why would he attack me? He’s Prospitian! Is he a double agent? Is Derse trying to sabotage the negotiations?_  


He had no time to dwell on the thoughts flying through his head. The Prospitian – or Dersite, or whoever he was – seemed determined to kill him with that knife that wasn’t even supposed to be there. John had never been in real combat before, but he wasn’t helpless. He had learned to fight, just like anyone else in these times. He could defend himself. But, trained or not, he wasn’t exactly used to fighting off a madman with a dagger using only his bare hands.  


John dodged one swing, but then the man feinted, and in his haste to not get gutted, he tripped over one of the chunks of ceiling that had come down during the (?) explosions. In an instinctive attempt to regain balance, his wings snapped out, but it was too late and he was at a bad angle. He landed on top of one half-open wing, and the burst of pain that followed left him gasping on the floor, unable to move or defend himself from the Prospitian – no, not Prospitian – the attacker bearing down on him, blade raised.  


In a flash, a swirl of violet darted between John and the would-be assassin. Dave Strider, the Dersite, disarmed the man with a single strike to his forearm, and knocked him clear to the ground with another. The second blow was apparently quite hard, because the attacker stayed where he had fallen.  


“Your wing.”  


John blinked. Maybe it was shock, but his brain was feeling slow, unable to keep up with everything that was happening. “My what – ow. Oh.” Right. His wing.  


Staggering to his feet, John craned his neck, trying to assess the damage. Was it broken? It didn’t feel broken. It hurt, but he didn’t think it was broken. Hopefully. Broken wings were bad news no matter what, but a broken wing during peace talks that had suddenly turned decidedly unpeaceful, what with the explosions and the assassin and _holy shit where was Jade_  


Apparently he was saying this out loud, because Dave looked vaguely confused/concerned (it was hard to tell with that guy), and stepped forward. “Yeah, peace talks aren’t looking so peaceful anymore,” he muttered. “Here. Let me look at your wing.”  


He didn’t move, however, watching John quietly, his knuckles still stained with John’s attacker’s blood. John took a moment to weigh the pros and cons of letting a stranger, and a Dersite at that, near his wings, but also his wing _hurt,_ like really hurt, and he kind of wanted someone to rely on right now and Dave Strider sure as hell looked like he knew what he was doing. So, with a glance at the still-unconscious definitely-not-a-Prospitian-diplomat still lying on the floor, John did what he never thought he would do and allowed a Dersite to touch his wings.  


Dave almost-frowned as he examined John’s wings. He didn’t touch them at all, just walked around John slowly, staring through the dark glasses. It hurt to move either wing.  


“Okay, neither one looks broken,” Dave said, “but you definitely fucked them up with that fall. Sprained, maybe, or something just got bent the wrong way. They’ll be fine.”  


_Good._ Part of John had been terrified that he would have been grounded forever. No one could ever want that, but it was a particular worst fear for John. He adored the sky more than anything in the world.  


Suddenly, there was a swirl of purple flashing around him. John flinched, but Dave was just tying that silly violet Dersite cape he had been wearing around John’s body, binding the wings tightly to his torso. “This’ll keep them from moving around and making it worse,” Dave said, tying the cape together tightly. “Once we get out of here, though, you’re gonna have to find a doctor.”  


John shifted, testing the restraint of the cape. He could hardly move his wings at all, but that was kind of the point, so. “How do you know all this stuff?” he asked, rolling his shoulders. “About wings and breaking and spraining and fixing them?”  


Dave took a step back, out of John’s personal space, and the absence felt strange. “I’ve been in fights. Wings get fucked up all the time. At least yours isn’t broken in half.” He turned away, giving John no time to think about the idea of a truly broken wing, something that probably meant no more flying ever – a true death sentence, to John. “Let’s go. Those were bombs, and I don’t know where Rose is.”  


_Rose. The other Dersite leader._ “Jade too. We have to find them.” John hurried to follow Dave. He was a Dersite, but he was the only one who didn’t seem to be trying to kill John, and John wasn’t really interested in trying to find Jade on his own in the huge castle with a sprained wing. “Those really were bomb blasts? Who would do that? These are supposed to be peace talks!”  


“Not anymore.” Dave’s voice was flat and hard. He seemed to have begun to realized what a huge amount of trouble they were in, as was John. “Something’s going on. We just have to find Rose and Jade, and then we’ll figure out what to do.”

* * *

Rose coughed herself awake. She sat up, dust and rubble shifting and sliding off her as she moved.  


_What happened?_ She stood up slowly, legs wobbly, ears ringing. It was the ringing that brought back her memory.  


A figure dressed in bright white had come around the corner at the same time as she and Jade, clearly not expecting them to be there. And then they had thrown something – a grenade? A small bomb? – she wasn’t sure, everything had happened so fast, and then the explosion. The force had been tremendous for something so small.  


White. That didn’t make sense. There were Dersites and Prospitians at these talks, and everyone was clearly marked in purple and yellow, delineating their origins. So why had their surprise attacker been wearing white?  


There was a sound as rubble shifted. Somebody else was nearby and conscious. That somebody else could be Jade, one of the Prospitian group’s leaders, or it could be the bomb-thrower. Fifty-fifty chance.  


Rose wished she had her needles. Who needed a sword when you could pin a butterfly from ten steps and take a man’s eye out from twenty-five, not to mention the close-range damage that could be done with sharp tips and strong thrusting power? Why, oh why hadn’t she brought them with her?  


Right. Peace talks. Not anymore, Rose thought. Then she squared her shoulders and prepared to meet the other blast survivor, unarmed, but still dangerous.  


The rubble moved again, and Jade Harley rolled over with a groan. She was covered in dust, turning her gold Prospit dress to faded yellow. She must have been closer to the explosion, because her arms and hands and some of her face were covered in raw red burns. The girl shifted again, making strange incoherent noises, and suddenly sat up, eyes open wide. “Was that a bomb?” she asked, quite clearly.  


Rose blinked. “Yes,” she said. “I think.  


“And I think there are more.”  


Jade stared at her, processing. Then, “I don’t think the peace talks are staying very peaceful.”  


Rose had to smile, just a bit. “No, it does not seem so.” She stepped forward. “Your arms.”  


Jade glanced down. “Well, fuck.” She met Rose’s eyes again. “Help me tear bandages?”  


“You’re handling this surprisingly well,” Rose noted as she ripped her own and Jade’s dress hems into makeshift bandages.  


“Adrenaline,” Jade said blandly, wrapping a strip of purple around her left hand. “I kind of hope it doesn’t wear off. Burns suck.”  


_Well, at least I’m not stuck with some sniveling Prospitian princess,_ Rose thought as she helped the other girl bind a long yellow piece around her right elbow, tied together with violet scraps.  


“Where’s the other one?” Jade asked suddenly. “The white-clothes guy. The one with the bomb,” she added unnecessarily.  


Rose’s blood ran cold. “Stay here.” She stood, grabbing a long, sharp shard of glass from the broken window and wrapping the base in yellow fabric to keep from cutting her hand. It was no needle, but she could cut a throat with it if she needed to.  


It would do.  


She found the bomb-thrower lying just a needle’s throw away. Either their bomb had been bigger than they had expected it to be, or they hadn’t moved away fast enough, or they had just been plain stupid. The white-clad attacker was dead, shrapnel from the blast sticking up from their back where they lay face down on the floor.  


“Our bomb-happy friend is dead,” she called to Jade. “We are safe for now.”  


_For now._ She could hear Jade getting up and coming to her as she used her foot to roll the body onto its back. Jade came up and stopped behind her, and together Dersite and Prospitian stared down at the symbol emblazoned over the heart of the man who had tried to kill them.  


A blue-and-white circle, overlaid with a stitching of lime-green loops and lines like petals. It could have been beautiful, but Rose knew what it stood for.  


_“Skaia.”_  


Rose wasn’t sure whether she or Jade had spoken the name. It didn’t matter. Everyone in both kingdoms knew it.  


Skaia was a terrorist group. They believed that the war was necessary, good even. Derse and Prospit must always fight. That was how it had to be. There were even rumors that Skaia was the reason the war had gone on so long, past the length of memory, and that any time peace had been attempted, Skaia had destroyed it and doubled the fighting at once.  


_And now they were doing it again._  


Rose felt her blood run cold. “I have to find Dave. There is no better way to renew Derse’s interest in fighting and destroy any chance of peace than to kill me and him. We are two of Derse’s leaders. The armies would die for Dave – they would riot at his death. And I am… known. None would tolerate leaving my murder unavenged.”  


“Same for me and John,” Jade muttered, her eyes tight. “Prospit loves us. We’re next to lead the council. The people think we’re gods. And…” she trailed off, meeting Rose’s eyes in horror. “And if we died here, everyone would think Derse did it.”  


“And all of Derse would believe that Prospit had broken its word at the peace talks and assassinated two of their greatest leaders,” Rose added, the pieces falling into place in her mind. “This is the perfect time for Skaia to strike. We are all here, all at once, and relatively unarmed and unprepared. If they want war, killing the four of us during an attempt at peace and blaming the other side is… There is no better way to ensure war.”  


Jade took a deep breath. “We have to find John and Dave. We’ve gotta get out of here.”  


As she and Jade set off, Rose could only think, _We must survive. Even more than before, peace and any future at all depends solely on us._  


_We have to make it out of here alive, or there will never be an end to the war._

* * *

John and Dave had been searching for Jade and Rose for a long time. Twice they had heard footsteps, and had hidden in alcoves and side rooms until the people had passed. Sometimes they were Dersites, sometimes they were Prospitians, sometimes they were dressed in snow-white. They walked loudly and sometimes shouted, and John saw more than one uniform spattered with blood.  


Not knowing who to trust, they trusted no one. If the Prospitian who had attacked John had been a bad guy, whoever they were, then so could anyone. So they let every other person pass them by, whether Dersite or Prospitian or white-clad unknown, waiting to catch sight of Jade’s glasses or Rose’s hair and hoping that they didn’t get caught before that.  


Neither of them spoke at all, moving stealthily and silently, and so they were very surprised indeed when the door to the little room they had ducked into was flung open and a girl in a yellow Prospitian servant’s uniform who looked like she could be even younger than them charged in.  


All three stopped dead and stared at one another. For a second, John thought that Dave was going to knock the girl out then and there, but suddenly, without warning, she flung herself at John in a way that was most definitely not an attack.  


“My lord! My lord!” she cried as she fell to her knees in front of a very-confused John, still managing to stay relatively quiet in case there were still men outside. “Oh, my lord, you’re safe! Thank the gods! I thought –”  


Suddenly she stopped and snapped her head around to stare with a mixture of shock, fear, and hatred at Dave. “A Dersite! How dare you try to trick Lord John into following you –”  


“No, no, no,” John hurriedly stepped between the girl and Dave, who looked confused and put-off but not violent (yet) at the outburst. “He’s not tricking me. We’re on the same team. Those people are trying to kill us both.”  


The girl frowned. “But the attackers are Dersites! They must be! He’s leading the attacks, I know it!”  


“No, I’m not.” Dave said, voice flat as always but colored with a trace of bafflement. “I don’t think I’d command my own soldiers to attack me, and also why the fuck would I try to blow up the entire castle _while Rose and I are still in it?”_  


“But then, who could those men be?” The girl still sat on the floor, looking a little lost. Prospitians generally believed Dersites to be evil, so it was definitely confusing to have them not be the bad guys. “If it isn’t the Dersites –”  


“It’s not us,” Dave interrupted. “But it’s not you, either. At least I don’t think so. Unless you would command your own men to try to kill you and break your wings. You’re weird, but I don’t think you’re batshit insane.”  


“Definitely not,” John agreed, his wing twinging again.  


“So if it isn’t Dersites or Prospitians, then it has to be a third party,” Dave said with finality.  


“Who?” the girl asked again, sounding helpless.  


“Dunno,” the Dersite replied. “There’s lots. A lot of people aren’t so into the idea of peace. Maybe they think blowing shit up and swinging a few knives around will stop it.”  


_It probably will,_ John thought, but was jolted out of his mind when the girl, still kneeling on the floor, grabbed at his knees. “Lord John, take me with you, please! I was all alone when the explosions started, and then there were those people wearing white uniforms, and I’ve been hiding and running and I’m so scared!” There were tears in her eyes as she begged. “Please, _please_ don’t leave me alone here!”  


“Of course,” John said without a thought. When Dave threw him a look, noticeable even through the dark glasses, he hissed, “I can’t just leave her here, can I? She’s one of mine, she’ll be safer with us.”  


“She’ll slow us the fuck down is what she’ll do,” was Dave’s muttered reply. “We’re supposed to be finding Rose and Jade, not rescuing serving girls.”  


“Well, we’re doing that too,” John said with finality. “She’s coming with us. Now let’s go.”

* * *

The servant girl didn’t slow John and Dave down half as much as John had feared. She actually seemed to know the layout of the castle better than they did, although John realized that that actually made sense because servants had to know where they were and where they were going at all times.  


“What’s your name?” John asked after another group of white-clothed men and women had passed without noticing the three people hiding in the side room.  


“Vriska, sir,” she answered with a smile. “I’m usually an errand-runner of sorts. I’m not often in the palace in Prospit, and I’ve never been around you or Jade very much. They brought me along here as a messenger and a sort of jill-of-all-trades,” she continued. “I’ve been all over everywhere in this castle since the talks began.”  


“That explains how you know where everything is,” John agreed. “If only you could see where everyone is. I don’t know how we’re going to find Jade and Rose in all this, especially with those people everywhere we go.”  


“We just have to avoid them,” Dave said. He had hardly spoken since they had found Vriska. The most he had ever said to John, John realized, was when he had reassured John that his wing was not severely damaged and that he would still be able to fly. “I don’t like this. Those guys have a lot of weapons, and we don’t have shit. I only got that first guy because he was so focused on you,” he added to John. He didn’t seem to like Vriska very much, but, well. Prospitian servant. Dersite ruler. Not much in common. Although John had to question that just a little bit, because Dave didn’t seem to dislike him very much, and he was Dave’s direct opposite. Hm.  


“Well, they’re pretty dumb. I mean, if they haven’t found you yet, they probably won’t. Bunch of idiots. There aren’t that many places to hide,” Vriska said scornfully.  


“That’s a good thing,” John reminded her. “We don’t want them to find us; we’re darn lucky they aren’t good at hide-and-seek. Dave’s right, we’re at a major disadvantage. And I don’t think they’ve found Jade or Rose, either. They would all be talking about it if they had caught one of us.”  


“They would be bragging,” Vriska agreed. “It would be major for someone to catch a Prospitian or Dersite ruler. More than one, and they would be the talk of the world.”  


Weird words, but hey – they were sneaking around a castle during what sure as hell seemed like a coup or maybe something even worse, and John couldn’t blame Vriska for wondering what was going on on the bad guys’ side.  


“Come on,” Dave said, restless. “We can’t stay here. If they haven’t caught Rose or Jade, that means they’re still out there somewhere. Let’s move.”  


Dave was first at the door, Vriska on his heels and John trailing behind.  


Suddenly, John had a thought. Maybe there was something in this little room that they could use as a weapon. Anything would help. Even something that wasn’t an actual weapon, like a hammer, like anything at all, really, would be better than nothing.  


He had already turned back, intending to search the room quickly before he and Dave and Vriska moved on, when suddenly his senses shouted at him and he spun around in time to see Vriska pick up a heavy candlepost and swing it, smashing it into the back of Dave’s head with terrifying strength.  


John shouted in rage and fear, his mind flashing back to Dave saving him from the false Prospitian at the beginning of the attacks but knowing instinctively that Vriska was far stronger than that man and he didn’t stand a chance against her. But still he moved forward, desperate to do anything to keep her from killing Dave, if he wasn’t already dead. The Dersite lay where he had fallen, blood pooling beneath his head, motionless.  


As he ran, Vriska turned back towards him, a cruel smile splitting her face. All traces of the shy and frightened Prospitian servant were gone, shed like an old skin. They had been replaced by something vicious, ferocious, fearless. Stronger than John. Deadly.  


He wouldn’t win against her. He knew that, and still he charged her, weaponless, no plan in his mind except to stop her from killing Dave, if she hadn’t already.  


She was stronger, and she knew it. She moved faster than fast, reaching out with one hand and shoving him hard in the center of his chest. John was thrown back, staggering and crashing down to the ground, his wing twisting in its binding, forcing a cry from his throat.  


He lay there, pain pulsing through his back, and watched Vriska advance on him slowly, confident. Dave wouldn’t save him this time. The blood beneath the Dersite was dark, almost black-red, matching his wings in the worst way. Vriska would kill John, and then she would finish Dave off. John knew this, and still he couldn’t move, a mix of shock and pain keeping him bound to the ground. He couldn’t save Dave, and he couldn’t save himself. The end.  


The end came in a whirl of violet and a blood-curdling scream. Rose Lalonde, the other Dersite leader, hit Vriska with such force that the two of them went airborne for a moment. Then they crashed to the ground, Vriska first and Rose directly on top of her, and the fight began.  


John was still in shock, or maybe his wing had been hurt worse than he thought, because he could do nothing but stare as the two girls, one purple and one yellow (false yellow, John didn’t know what Vriska was but she wasn’t Prospitian), tore at each other. Weapon lost, Vriska raked her nails down Rose’s face, tearing at the flesh, clawing at the arms Rose thrust out in an attempt to defend herself. Vriska bucked, trying to fling the Dersite off, but Rose didn’t let go.  


Then, in a flash, Rose drew something from her belt. John caught a flash of light on glass, a spark of bright light, and then Rose plunged the shard deep into Vriska’s heart, splitting the Prospitian moon emblazoned on her dress and instantly turning the yellow scarlet with blood.  


There was a second of dead silence, broken only by Rose and John’s heavy breathing, and then suddenly Jade was there, hands fluttering helplessly over John’s face and body.  


“– ohn, John, come on John I know you can hear me, please hear me, snap out of it John please, John John John –”  


“I’m – I’m okay,” John stammered, his brain coming back to him. He sat up and then, very slowly, stood, Jade moving back to give him space but still close enough to catch him if he fell.  


Rose had already moved from Vriska’s body to kneel beside Dave, blood spattered across her face and dress, some of it Vriska’s but an alarming amount her own, running from the deep clawmarks Vriska had left in her face and arms. She didn’t seem to notice, however, all her attention devoted to Dave, whose eyelids were beginning to flutter – trying, it seemed, to wake.  


With Jade’s help, John made his way to Dave’s side, sitting down heavily opposite Rose. Dave mumbled and muttered, head rolling slowly from side to side, before opening his eyes with great effort.  


It was only then that John noticed that the previously constantly-present dark glasses Dave had always worn were missing, probably shattered in Vriska’s attack. The Dersite’s eyes were a brilliant scarlet, even redder than the blood that stained his clothes and skin and laced through his hair. John had no time to be surprised by the color, however, because the second Dave saw him, he sat up at lightspeed, shoving himself away from the Prospitian and almost falling over Rose.  


“Dave? Dave, stop moving! You’re injured, I don’t know how bad it is –” Rose’s attempts to restrain the other Dersite were only partially successful, the stop in Dave’s motion seemed more from a sudden onslaught of dizziness than because of her.  


“They’re Prospitian, Rose! What are they doing here, how did they get in, where are…” Dave suddenly slumped against her, squeezing his eyes shut and raising his hands to his head shakily. “Holy shit, Rose, what’s happening? My head…”  


Rose grabbed his hands before he could try to touch the injury. “Dave, stop. You’re hurt. We are at the castle meant for the peace talks between Derse and Prospit, but Skaia interfered and we are under attack. We –”  


“John.” Dave suddenly looked up, meeting John’s eyes, although he appeared to have difficulty focusing. “You’re John. You’re a Prospitian. I… I saved your life.”  


“Yeah.” John breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever memory-loss thing had just happened was apparently over. “You did. And… I’m sorry I couldn’t stop Vriska in time. I should have guessed that she was another bad guy.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Wait. Skaia? Rose, when you said Skaia, –”  


“Yes. Skaia as in the terrorist group. They are the ones who set off the bombs, and they are the people wearing white running through the castle.”  


John was shocked. “Skaia? All of it? But –”  


Jade interrupted. “Lots of stuff is going on, but right here is not the place for talking right now. Sorry to say it, Rose, but you weren’t exactly quiet when you killed that Prospitian impersonator. We need to move.”

* * *

They soon discovered that although John could walk on his own, even if he was a bit wobbly, Dave was barely able to stand alone, and getting him to walk required him to lean heavily on Rose, and still he could only move at a snail’s pace.  


Snail’s pace was still movement, though, and so they moved, slowly, searching for a place to hide and catching each other up on what had happened since they had been separated.  


Rose quickly explained what she and Jade had discovered. Skaia was much bigger and more powerful than anyone had expected, and they were not interested in peace. They must have infiltrated both sides before the talks, and then brought in their own people after the bombs had gone off.  


When Rose described Skaia’s plan, to kill the four leaders of the peace talks, John’s blood ran cold. It was a perfect plan. Nobody had any weapons, and two powerful members of each side were present and as unprepared for violence as anyone living during wartime could be. Rose was right – if any of them were killed, their clans would never accept peace, and the war would continue to rage on.  


Dave was struggling enough just to walk, and so it was left to John to tell their side. He explained the false Prospitian ambassador, now obviously a Skaian imposter, and Vriska, much more dangerous but essentially the same. Rose’s hands clenched at the mention of the girl, the drying blood on her hands cracking and flaking to the ground with the movement. She said nothing, though, and although John had been somewhat shocked at her actions, he knew that he would have done the same.  


The castle was big, and although the four had been there for a few days, none of them had truly learned its layout. The only good thing about having Vriska had been that she knew where she was going, but in reflection, she could just as easily have been getting them lost as helping them.  


They moved slowly, far too slowly, but there was no way to go any faster. Rose’s scratches were bleeding so much that she couldn’t see out of one eye, and Dave was weaving and stumbling so that he needed both Rose and John to keep him moving. Jade had been scouting ahead, but her burns were raw and red and blistered and left her struggling to focus and breathe steadily. They were all in bad shape.  


The sudden stop was necessitated by the fact that Dave chose that moment to have a seizure. That was bad, John knew. Head injuries were bad, head injuries that did things like memory loss and seizures were really, really bad. The jerk on John’s wings as Dave went down sudden and hard made him cry out, falling to the ground alongside the Dersite.  


John had never seen a seizure. He sat there like a rock, trying to breathe through the pain in his wings and back, staring. Rose knelt beside the boy, whispering frantically, disjointed pleads and assurances, hands fluttering like dying butterflies over Dave’s chest.  


It was Jade who kept her head. The moment she noticed something was wrong, she rushed back to them. With a glance, she knew what was going on and what to do. A gentle shove pushed Rose out of the way enough to give Jade access, though allowing her to stay close. She pushed Dave onto his side, laying his head in her lap to keep it from hitting the floor and being injured worse, and then she took Rose’s hand and they waited.  
It felt like an eternity before the seizes passed and Dave’s body relaxed again. He was still for a moment, and then, “I feel like shit.”  


Jade laughed, though John could see that using her arms had made her burns hurt worse. “Well, none of us are doing great, exactly.”  


“This fucking sucks.” Dave tried to get back up, but turned several shades paler than should probably have been possible and lay still when Jade pressed him back down. “Oh no you don’t,” she snapped. “Your head is fucked up way more than I or any of us can fix here and now, John’s wings are messed up bad, Rose’s face might be infected, and my arms hurt like hell. There’s nobody here. We’re staying.”  


Part of John wanted to protest. They were way too exposed, armed and dangerous Skaians could come along at any moment, they needed to escape – there were a million reasons not to stay, but he couldn’t find it in him to speak any of them aloud. Rose and Dave looked the same. Jade was right. They were seriously messed up, and running around in this shape would do none of them any good.  


As they sat, Jade tore more of her dress apart to wrap the scraps around Rose’s head and arms. She complained as she did, whining about how this had been such a nice dress before Skaia had to come along and ruin it and also everything else. Rose snorted, but allowed the Prospitian to bind the ragged clawmarks beneath layers of yellow. It wouldn’t really do much, but it was something, an attempt to fix just a tiny bit of what was so wrong all around them, and nobody said anything about how it was only really going to stop the bleeding some, not provide the stitches or disinfectant or healing that Rose needed – that all of them needed. With Rose’s help, John did the same to Dave’s head, which was still bleeding sluggishly. He looked like a nightmare – blood everywhere, turning his hair crimson and staining down his shirt, smeared across his too-pale skin, making his red eyes even redder. John didn’t say anything about the blood, didn’t say anything about how Dave was usually pale but this was really far too pale for anyone to be, how he was afraid that Dave’s skull might be cracked. He just wrapped yellow bandages around the other boy’s head, feeling the weight of the purple cape holding his wing steady against his back.  


It was at that moment, hands stained with a Dersite’s blood, helping another Dersite wrap Prospit-yellow scraps of fabric around a serious wound as if they would really do anything, that John realized something. He wanted peace. He didn’t want Dave and Rose to be his enemies. He wanted Dave watching his back, wanted Rose to counsel him on matters of rulership. He wanted to help Dave keep people safe and wanted to teach Rose everything about Prospitian culture, and learn everything there was to learn of her own Dersite culture. He wanted Jade to stay by his side forever.  


Between the four of them, peace was possible.  


Peace was possible, for the first time in centuries, but it wasn’t going to happen if they died here. And John would have been lying to himself if he said that this pause, this break in their running, was anything other than the act of a wounded animal going to ground to die. Dave had lapsed into unconsciousness, Rose looked listless and pale, Jade’s skin was red and blistered and her eyes were heavy and tired, and John himself felt like he had been kicked all the way to the capital of Derse and back. His wings felt disconnected and numb, and deep down he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to fly again even if they somehow survived.  


A chance at peace for the first time in forever, and it was almost certain that it would die here, that they were going to die now. John didn’t want to die, but there didn’t seem to be many other options.

* * *

John hadn’t realized that he had dozed off until a sound in the distance startled him awake again. Rose was awake too, staring out with hard eyes, fists clenched emptily – she had left her sole weapon buried in the heart of the girl who had tried to kill her closest friend. Jade was blinking hard, but she looked ready to drop, too exhausted to do anything. Dave didn’t move. He was still unconscious. Part of John’s mind worried at that, something about head injuries and stay awake, but there was no time to think on it – the sounds were getting louder. There were people approaching.  


They didn’t stand a chance. Peace would die, here and now, and there was nothing John or Rose or Dave or Jade could do about it.  


Waiting for a white-clad Skaian to walk around the corner and kill them all, John was definitely not expecting what happened next.  


_“Dad?”_  


James Egbert, head of the council of Prospit, was looking a bit worse for the wear, his normally-impeccable gold-and-cream clothing rumpled and dusty, hair scruffy and eyes showing exhaustion and fear.  


That all fell away the instant he saw his son. He dropped his sword (since when had John’s father ever used a sword?) and ran to him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. At John’s badly-hidden noise of pain, however, he leapt back, the concern coming back to his face. “John? Are you all right? What happened here? We got a message –”  
“It was Skaia.” Rose spoke suddenly, and John saw the way his father’s face shuttered and became tight and hard as he snapped around to stare at the Dersite girl.  


“No, wait, Dad,” he began. “She’s good, her name’s Rose, she –”  


She what? She was one of the good guys? She had saved him from Vriska? She had rescued Jade at the beginning of this nightmare? She was a person who mattered just as much as any Prospitian, perhaps even more, since one quarter of the chance of peace now rested on her shoulders?  


John was spared from having to try to explain by the arrival of two more people. The tall man did not sheathe his sword at the sight of them, though a single glance at the white hair, stark black-and-orange wings, and dark sunglasses told John that he was somehow related to Dave. The woman beside him was clearly Rose’s mother, as upon sight of the girl, she dropped her weapon with a shriek and ran to her. “Rosie, oh god Rosie, we got a message and it said that there had been an attack on the castle, Ambrose and I left as fast as we could but we didn’t know what had happened, we didn’t know –”  


“I’m all right, Mother,” Rose said tiredly. “If you’re here and we’re safe now, I would really like to go find a doctor.”  


“You – oh. Oh my god, Rosie, what happened?”  


“I would like to know the same thing,” came a booming voice, and John felt Jade sag in relief beside him. If Hass Harley was here and was not shouting about fighting, then they were safe for real.  


Suddenly, all the adults seemed to realize the situation. Not the actual situation, where their charges were severely injured and needed medical attention, but the situation where there were Prospitians and Dersites in the same room.  


This was why John and the others had been sent to negotiate peace, and not the grownups. “Dad, this is Rose and Dave. They saved my life; I would have died in the first five minutes of all this crazy stuff if Dave hadn’t saved me. Rose killed the woman who hurt Dave and was about to do the same to me. She rescued Jade when the first bombs went off. Please stop freaking out that they’re wearing purple and we’re wearing yellow, I’m too tired to do this right now.”  


The comment about yellow and purple wasn’t even entirely true, John suddenly realized. He still had Dave’s purple cape wrapped around his wings, and Rose and Jade’s bandages were both bizarre combinations of both colors. Dave’s bandages had started out yellow, although they were mostly red now. Even the color separations were blurring between the four of them.  


“If we weren’t together, your brother would be dead,” Rose said quietly, staring at the orange-feathered man, who had yet to speak.  
“Rose found me,” Jade mumbled in the general direction of her grandfather. “I don’t think I would have survived on my own, or found John and Dave without her.”  


Dave suddenly came awake with a jerk and a harsh gasp. Rose and – Ambrose? Was that Dave’s brother’s name? – both reached for him, but he pushed Rose’s hand away, staring at his brother with too-red eyes. “Bro,” he slurred, “don’ kill ’em. They’re Prosptanss, but… they’re good. Please.”  


Ambrose gazed down at his brother with an unreadable face, but in an instant, something changed. The Dersite sheathed his sword, kneeling down beside the kids. “I won’t hurt them. You’ll all be fine.” It sounded like a command.  


Dave breathed a sigh of relief. “Good,” he whispered, and then dropped bonelessly, totally unconscious.  


“It is my opinion,” John’s father began, “that these children need medical treatment, and that any and all political issues can be dealt with at a later time, when their lives are no longer in danger and they are rested and prepared to meet with us.”  


“Agreed,” boomed Jade’s grandfather. Dave’s brother nodded, and Rose’s mother added, “They’re setting up a field hospital outside. We should go.”  


John was already falling asleep when he felt his father gather him into his arms, ever so careful of his wings. “You’re safe now, John,” came a whisper when he stirred. “Rest.”  


“I want to resume the peace talks,” John mumbled. His father was silent. “When everything calms down again, I mean. Dad, I… we can do this. If Skaia doesn’t blow everything up again, me and Rose and Dave and Jade can make a peace, Dad. I know we can.”  


There was a pause, and then John’s father responded. “All right. Once you and the others are healed, we will begin plans to resume the talks. With much higher security, of course.”  


“’M not gonna complain ’bout that,” John muttered, but he was smiling. He was safe, they were all safe, and once he could think straight again they would start the talks again and there would be real peace for the first time in forever.  


John had never thought he would appreciate a terrorist attack on an attempt at peacemaking, but he knew that had it not been a literal situation of life and death, he would never have made that connection with Dave and Rose. Little had Skaia known that when they tried to sabotage the talks and kill four prominent leaders of Prospit and Derse, they would actually be cementing a bond and forming a future peace.  


_We’re alive,_ John thought. Forcing his eyes open, he could see Jade’s hair and one wing peeking over her grandfather’s back, caught a glimpse of Dave cradled in his brother’s arms, could just barely see Rose being carried by her mother, bringing up the rear. They were alive, and they were together. _And once we heal, we’ll be the first Prospitians and Dersites who aren’t at war in hundreds of years._  


_That’s good._ And then he slept.

.

* * * * * *

.

John breathed a sigh of relief. His last meeting of the day was over. He was done. He could go home and relax now. Finally.  


It wasn’t like home was that far away – it was still in the castle. But it was still home, the side wing (haha, wing – castle wing, feathery wing… it was funny, okay?) that he shared with the three people he loved more than anything in the entire world.  


When he opened the door, he discovered that those three people had finished their work before him (or skipped out – who knew, sometimes), and were already there.  


Jade was lying on her stomach on a rug near the balcony, the doors open to let the ocean breeze in, her cream-and-lime wings spread wide, totally relaxed. Dave sat cross-legged beside her, his own wings half-open, the dark glasses that were almost a constant presence on his face absent, running his fingers through Jade’s feathers. She hummed, stretching her wings farther, before dropping even more limply. Rose sat beside them, feet braced on Dave’s thigh, scribbling in a notebook. When John entered the room, all three looked up at him, near-identical smiles appearing at the sight of him.  


The first thing John did when he reached them was take Rose’s notebook. “You’re done for the day,” he said, closing it and placing it carefully on a nearby table. “Relax, Rose.”  


“That’s what I said,” Jade grumbled, “but no, when does Rose ever listen to me?”  


“I do,” Rose countered, “Just not when I have work to do. But with John –”  


“But with me, you know that if you try to take that book back I will throw either it or you into the ocean,” John added, and Dave snorted, a rare smile on his face. He only ever smiled when he was around them.  


John stretched dramatically, spreading his wings their full span and a little more, ivory-and-pale-blue feathers rustling at the movement, before plopping down beside Rose. He reached out and tugged on one wing. “Lemme,” he said, and she knew what he wanted to do, and knew that she wanted it too.  


The former Dersite turned her back to the former Prospitian, ash-lavender wings opening silently. John shifted so that he could reach the left wing easily, and began to preen.  
It took precisely two minutes for Rose to turn to jelly beneath his hands. Preening was the most personal, most intimate thing people could do, and the four regularly preened one another. Their relationship was a sort of open secret, but they were good enough leaders that nobody ever really said anything.  


They had ended the war. The fighting had gone on longer than anyone could remember, and four children sent to make an attempt at peace had succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. Prospit and Derse were united now, as the nation of Sky. Perhaps the name was meant to reference wings, or maybe it represented the freedom and perfection of flight and the openness of the world above. Or maybe it was the slightest nod to Skaia, which, although it had tried to guarantee more fighting, had only cemented the bond between the two former states.  


It had been years since the end of the war, and although most things were good now, there were still shadows of the long violence before. Throughout the nation, marks remained, and on the four leaders of Sky as well.  


John couldn’t see it from here, but he knew that Rose still had a scar running down the side of her face, just missing her right eye. There were more, faint lines down her forearms and another small one on the left side of her jaw, but that one was the biggest. Sometimes she would arrange her hair to conceal it, layer makeup over it – but sometimes, if the occasion called for it, she would pull her hair back, darken her eyes and lips the way she always did but leave the scar stark and bare, a reminder that although they were at peace now, she was still a warrior, and that was never to be forgotten.  


Dave had a scar too, but his wasn’t visible, hidden instead beneath his white hair. Vriska had cracked his skull with the force of her attack, and although he had recovered, it had been a close thing for a while. He had other scars – a leader of armies always did, unless he was a bad leader, which Dave was not – but that was the one John always sought out, running his fingers through the paper-pale hair until he found it. Dave never said anything when he did this, just leaned against him and closed his blood-colored eyes. He knew how close it had been, too.  


Jade’s burns had mostly healed cleanly, but John could find the faint marks if he looked. One cheek bore a faint lacelike pattern, and it was possible to trace a shape almost like a wing down her left forearm, feather-burns spread wide and wrapped faintly around her wrist. They all knew, now, that Jade had gotten those burns pushing Rose out of the blast range during the first attack. Rose would touch the marks every chance she got, a silent acknowledgement and thanks.  


Dave had been right – John’s wings had healed just fine. It had taken some time before he could fly like he had before, but he was back to full strength now. There were no marks, no scars left to show what he had almost lost, but sometimes Dave would run his fingers along the bases of John’s wings, feeling nothing there physically – but he had been there. He knew just as well as John how easy it would have been for the fall to have been slightly different – just a tiny bit more to the side, or a little more force, and John might have never flown again. When they flew together, they both knew what could have been lost, but they also knew that it was not. John was the best flier of them all.  


They could have lost so much. They could have all died, and with them, a last chance for peace between Prospit and Derse. But now – look what they had now. Sky was united and peaceful, its land no longer made of battlefields and graveyards, its people no longer soldiers and spies.  


And they had each other. Had Skaia known what they would be doing, how they would be forcing opposing sides to work together for survival and that the connection forged there would result in this, they would never have attacked the peace talks. Although many had died in the attack, John was almost grateful to them. He and Jade might have been able to successfully negotiate with Rose and Dave and the other Dersites, but it wouldn’t have ended like this. John was glad it had.  


Jade was already asleep, snoring softly. Rose was so relaxed that John couldn’t tell if she was awake or not – if she was, it certainly wasn’t full consciousness. Dave reached out and poked John’s side. “Go to sleep, you idiot,” he said, though his voice was fond. “We’ve got things to do tomorrow.”  


John grumbled but obeyed, laying his head in Dave’s lap and pulling Rose down to curl against his stomach. Jade snuffled in her sleep and rolled over, pressing her face into John’s back. John could feel Dave’s hands carding slowly through his hair, and with a smile John let himself drift off.  


They had done it. The war was over and Sky was a land of peace. But the best thing they had one was each other. Ruling a newborn nation was hard work, but at the end of every day John had _them_ , had _this_ , and he wouldn’t give it up for all the world.

**Author's Note:**

> im only what  
> really late  
> really really late  
> but its done  
> and i dont hate it entirely  
> and i hope you dont either  
> i actually planned to write a second one of your requests but life decided that wasnt going to happen so maybe ill get that done too someday  
> i may or may not try to rewrite this a bit in the future but for now heres your betapalooza present i hope you like it thankyou bye
> 
> EDIT: hello i finally got my shit together and made a tumblr for all my homestuck nonsense. there will be writey stuff and other things there too, so if youre interested its [knightofthyme.tumblr.com](knightofthyme.tumblr.com)


End file.
